


A Matter of Mattress

by dailyroutineat221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sleeping Together, Unresolved Sexual Tension, body trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyroutineat221B/pseuds/dailyroutineat221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You wander around all day in pajamas but you can’t keep it on when it is necessary?” John was incredulous.</p><p>“I’m unconscious, I can’t control it. I tried.”</p><p>“What? Did you know about this…this thing you do while sleeping?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Mattress

“Two days? I can’t wait two days!” Sherlock protested on the phone, “It’s the best you can do? It’s outrageous and useless!”

John laid his newspaper down and gave Sherlock a strange look.

“What’s going on?” He mouthed, but Sherlock turned in his heels, giving John his back.

“I don’t care if you’re shipping it from Italy, Argentina, Australia, or whatever. You’re the worst bed store in the whole of Great Britain! I’ll make sure that the Queen hears of this!” Sherlock shouted, hanging up and throwing his phone and himself dramatically on the sofa.

“So, you were using Mycroft’s identity again?” John said as he returned his attention to the newspaper.

“Worth nothing. If he can’t even get a store to ship a bed in less than two days, what’s the point of his stupid career?”

“Should I ask why this urgent need of a bed?”

“Yes, since it’s a matter of your interest.”

“I highly doubt it. I’m not interested in buying a new bed. Mine is fine.”

“Good to hear that, I was worried about the quality of it.”

“Wait. You’re buying me a bed?” John put down the newspaper and gave Sherlock a suspicious look.

“John, John… silly John. Why would I buy you a new bed if yours is perfectly fine, as you said?” Sherlock asked as he stood up.

“So, you’re buying yourself a new bed? That’s new, you never buy new thi—“John stopped just in time, “No, no and no,” he protested not completely sure what exactly he was protesting.

“I’m not asking, John.”

“No. Here, sleep on the couch and everything will be fine. You’re not getting any closer to mine,” John stated, “What have you done to your bed anyway?”

“I can’t sleep on the couch. You know that better than me. And mine is broken, no more questions.”

“Well, I can’t sleep on the couch either, so I’m telling you, no,” John tried to train his attention back on the newspaper, but Sherlock managed to rip it out of his hands.

“No problem, neither of us have to sleep on the couch. There’s enough room for both of us in your bed,” Sherlock said and John laughed.

“I’m not sharing my bed, sorry.”

“You’ve never complained about it when your girlfriends used to occupy more than a half of the bed.”

“But that was completely different!”

“Why?”

“They were woman, Sherlock!”

“So what?”

“Oh god… I have sex with them! I can’t simply send them home.”

“Of course you can.”

“That would be extremely rude.”

“Just one night, John. And I have already moved my things to your room,” Sherlock smiled.

“Seriously?” John sighed and glared his friend. He knew he couldn’t win, “Fine. One night.”

John went to shower before heading to bed. He took a little longer than usual in the bathroom, which gave Sherlock the perfect opportunity to settle down in John’s bed. When John entered his bedroom, he came across the sight of Sherlock in his pajamas lying on his side of the bed.

“Move, Sherlock, that’s my side.”

“I can’t sleep on the other side, John.”

“Too bad for you. My side, move, now!”

“Fine, but you’re a horrible host,” Sherlock complained while switching sides, “Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

John kicked off his flip flops to get in the bed. He settled down and made himself comfortable. But of course, Sherlock was occupying more room than him. John was tired. Instead of complaining about it, he just rolled over to face the other side and let himself drift to sleep.

When the morning came, John woke to find himself laying spread on his back. He was somewhat proud of it, because in a very strange way he had fought and defeated Sherlock for dominance in bed. When those words echoed in his mind, he shook his head in an attempt to forget how weird that sounded. It was only then he realized that his left hand was resting on Sherlock’s naked thigh. He moved his hand slowly, just feeling the skin beneath his fingers, trying to figure out the situation.

Sherlock snored lightly and John quickly pulled his hand away, jumping out of the bed in shock. Sherlock was sleeping peacefully and naked. Naked! Like in the day he was born! Naked! Millions thoughts crossed John’s mind in a flash, but the only reaction his brain managed to process was to keep standing at the side of the bed watching his friend.

John was having a hard time not ogling Sherlock. It felt like he was still sleeping, unable to control his actions. His eyes were careful travelling through Sherlock’s body. He observed how Sherlock’s chest was moving up and down softly and how it was deprived of hair. Sherlock’s body had little hair. John found it curious. But there was a little trail crossing his lower abdomen from his belly button to his groin. He was muscular. His whole body was. John could see the muscles beneath the skin. And then, there was his penis. John couldn’t help but notice how well endowed his friend was.

He was too caught up in his little trip down Sherlock’s body when he heard a deep low hoarse voice.

“You’re staring, John.”

John almost jumped out of his skin. He ducked to catch the sheets that were scattered on the floor and started to fold them, “I-I…I wasn’t. I - - I…you’re naked!”

“Yes, I am,” Sherlock sat up stretching.

“In my bed, Sherlock! You’re bloody naked!” John said as he recovered himself from his embarrassment and let his anger take over him.

“ So what?” Sherlock pulled the sheet from John’s hand and covered himself with it, “I must have pulled my pajamas off while sleeping.”

“You wander around all day in pajamas but you can’t keep it on when it is necessary?” John was incredulous.

“I’m unconscious, I can’t control it. I tried.”

“What? Did you know about this…this thing you do while sleeping?”

“Of course I know, I do it every night since I was ten, which was really helpful in getting Mycroft to request his own room when we had shared all our lives.”

“There’s a naked men in my bed…” John mumbled to himself.

“C’mon, John… you’re a doctor. It’s your job to see naked people.”

“I’m not working right now. I’d be happy if you would just get out of my bed now, please.”

“You’re not a morning person at all. Now I see why your girlfriends leave in the morning when you’re still sleeping,” Sherlock said as he got up from John’s bed, leaving the sheets on it.

John predicted Sherlock’s movement and turned his back to him.

“John, you’re being immature,” Sherlock said as he looked around for his missing clothes.

“I’m not being immature, Sherlock. I just don’t want see you naked. I thought that was clear enough.”

“Well, you didn’t find it so terrible a moment ago when you spent three minutes and twenty four seconds staring at my naked figure.”

“I- What? You counted? What-why? I was waking up and didn’t notice. You were sleeping. How you- When did you-”

“It’s fine, John. I’m flattered that you liked it,” Sherlock said as he bent down to search under the bed.

“I WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” John turned to look at his friend only to find Sherlock still naked and on all fours. John blushed violently, “SHERLOCK! GET OUT!!!”

Sherlock raised his head from his position and looked at John.

“I’m looking for my clothes. I don’t know where I dropped my pajamas.”

“Get out, NOW!” John said, breathing rapidly.

“But John—” Sherlock started but John was already pushing him through the door, kicking him out of the bedroom. Sherlock felt the door being slammed on his back.

John sat on his bed and his hands went to his temples, massaging them gently and breathing slowly. He was trying his best not to think about how he probably slept the whole night with Sherlock naked in his bed; or how his hand had stroked the skin of Sherlock’s thigh; or how he had stared at Sherlock’s body for so long. He closed his eyes and again saw the muscular arms and legs; the well-formed hairless chest; the “V” line perfectly designed on his prominent hips; and his cock. Sherlock’s cock was anatomically ideal with just the right amount of thick and long and his balls well settled under it. There wasn’t much pubic hair and it made John wonder if it was natural or if Sherlock cared enough to shave it.

John stopped breathing. He caught himself speculating about if Sherlock’s pubic grooming habits. He was doomed. He cursed out loud and dramatically fell back on the bed, his chest and face colliding forcefully against the mattress. He kept himself like that until he was completely out of breath. He supported his head in his hands and elbows, breathed deeply and opened his eyes only to see what his face had been buried in moments ago.

“GODDAMIT!”

He cursed, throwing Sherlock’s underwear violently against the door and letting his face fall into the mattress again, wishing to never get up again.

 

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked this story? Try my other works: 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyroutineat221B/works
> 
> Thank you.


End file.
